


Longing for your touch

by withinmelove



Category: Captain America (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Avengers, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Precious Peter Parker, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/pseuds/withinmelove
Summary: Steve's first kiss with Peter happens during a Christmas party.





	Longing for your touch

**Author's Note:**

> My first fill for the Happy Steve Bingo. The prompt was "First Kiss" so I decided it would be with cutie Peter.
> 
> Constructive feedback is appreciated!

Steve doesn’t intend to kiss Peter that night. Well, truthfully, he assumed he’d never have a chance to kiss him. Peter’s still only a kid at eighteen—there’s no room in his life for romance with an Avenger. Certainly not with one of the most infamous shitstarters. 

He entirely blames his loss of restraint on the shots of Asgardian liquor. For once, he’d wanted to relax in a way he hasn’t been able to in forever. Before the serum, alcohol didn’t mix well with his health issues, and afterwards he didn’t even get to enjoy a buzz . So maybe it’s too cliché that their first kiss happens at a Christmas party when they are both tipsy. 

Surprise, surprise, it isn’t organized by Tony, who has never been someone for holidays or family get-togethers in general. It was Steve who took the lead by inviting the Avengers crew, Peter, Thor, and Loki over for a Christmas celebration. Something about spending Thanksgiving alone had tipped him towards homesick. At four am, he messaged everyone on a whim, offering to host a Christmas gathering (and sending one of the ten magical ravens Thor had left behind to reach him). No lie, he’d cried happy tears (when he was alone, of course) to get affirmations from the others that they’d be there. Steve doesn’t believe that this will fix the tensions between everyone or between himself and Tony concerning the mess of the Accords or Bucky. However, he misses his team too deeply to let them out of his life. 

So here they are, two days before Christmas Eve in Steve’s civilian apartment, sprawled from his living room to the kitchen. Warmth curls in his chest at the sight of them. Tony is playing chess with Bruce, while Pepper and Wanda chat. Clint’s talking with Bucky on the couch, gesturing about whatever they’re discussing. Natasha and Peter are in the kitchen with Steve, helping with the last-minute cooking. Vision and Sam are sitting closest to the Christmas tree, eyeing the mountain of presents and maybe trying to guess what everyone has bought for each other. With everyone’s eclectic tastes, the gifts really could cover quite the range. 

“Thanks for coming, you guys. I know we don’t really do this kind of thing, and your aunt probably has plenty planned, Peter.” Steve shrugs, a little embarrassed at admitting his need for closeness. Putting on his strong Captain America persona has made him averse to sharing too much. The media is vicious when you show too much vulnerability.But here he doesn’t need to fear that kind of censure .

Natasha smiles, leaning against his side for a moment as she plucks biscuits fresh from the oven from the baking tray and puts them into the dishcloth-covered bowl. 

“Of course. We all need this downtime. May as well spend it with teammates since not many of us have family left.” Seemingly she doesn’t mind the harsh truth she’s spoken. Even if Steve still isn’t the best at reading Natasha, he can make an educated guess that this realization isn’t pleasant for her either. He leans down enough so he can lay his cheek on the top of her head. 

“I’m glad you decided to come over. I missed you,” he admits, receiving a pleased hum from her as she wraps up the biscuits. After a moment, he moves aside as she grabs the bowl of mashed potatoes. They’ve set up two folding tables in the living room to make a buffet line of sorts, since the kitchen would be too cramped for all of the Avengers to squeeze into. He glances at Peter, who has been watching them with an expression between awe and affection. 

It’s been hard not to reach out for Peter since he walked in the door. Finally, Steve can’t resist temptation anymore and gently tugs on Peter’s hoodie until he moves close enough for Steve to pull him against his side. The kid’s not much shorter than him, just enough so that he can be tucked easily under Steve’s arm. In the months following the Accords battle, Steve had reached out to Peter. Despite the fact he’d been on Tony’s side when they had spoken at the airport, afterwards Steve had felt an irresistible urge to talk with Peter more. 

It was Peter, who had suggested training together. Who better to learn defensive and offensive moves from than from Steve, he had reasoned. And, he had admitted, he’d always wanted a chance to hang out with Captain America. But what with the tensions between Tony and himself, it hadn’t seemed the wisest option to announce he was training with Peter. Especially since Tony sees the young man as his surrogate son of sorts. Therefore, he’s not sure if the others know they regularly see one another. 

The sparring is good for them both. Peter has skill with his webbing, but he needs to learn how to counter Steve’s brute strength rather than just throwing himself recklessly into the fight. More often than not, Peter is too obvious with what moves he plans to do next. Since they have started working together, Peter’s become efficient at not broadcasting. Still chatty as ever, however, because Steve likes hearing him talk during their sparring. Most recently, Peter has improved enough that a couple of times he’s managed to web Steve into immobility. 

“And I’m glad _you_ showed up,” Steve murmurs, grinning at the flush that creeps over Peter’s face even as he returns the grin. They break apart when Natasha returns and eyes them both. She says nothing, simply grabs up more food. But there’s no hiding the fact they were being cutsey. At least everyone else was distracted by the hot biscuits for a moment. Peter gathers the paper plates, actual silverware (no way will plastic utensils hold up), napkins and one of the big bottles of soda. Steve juggles more food, ready to eat. 

It's as everyone has lined up for food, Thor and Loki decide to make their entrance. Namely by appearing in a flash of light in the living room. Everyone is shouting. As they dive down, Steve grabs Peter. 

Seconds pass as they all wait, tense and huddled together. 

Loki’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Brother, I do believe you’ve scared your friends appearing like this. I _told you_ the front door would be a better option.” 

Steve rises up from his kneeling position (his arm still firmly around Peter’s waist) to look over the couch, and yes, indeed, Thor and Loki are standing as nonchalant as you please holding...wine bottles? 

“He’s got drinks. Everything’s good,” Clint laughs as he stands. Everyone else gets to their feet as well, coming over to greet the brothers. What Steve notices right away is that Thor’s lacking an eye, which is covered by a patch. Loki and Thor’s hair seems longer than he remembers as well. Steve hopes there’ll be a moment to ask if they are okay because that's — rather frightening to see a god injured in such a vital way and place.

“It’s good to see you, Loki. Merry Christmas.” Steve watches Bruce valiantly putting on a pleasant expression. Right...maybe it _was_ a little awkward on Steve’s part to invite both of them tonight, but in a moment of sentimentality he didn’t want to exclude Loki. Much as he’s given plenty of reason not be invited to anything. 

Loki’s jaw tightens, but he pastes on a slight smile. 

“Thank you, Banner.” Loki turns to look at Steve, and nods at him . 

“Rogers. We brought mead. I would recommend that only those who are enhanced partake. Thor assumed you’d have alcohol for mortals here already,” Loki explains. And well, that assumption isn’t wrong. 

“Well, come on! Let’s not all stand around. Set the drinks on the table and get some food,” Tony interrupts, waving everyone over. For once, Steve’s glad of his disruption. They all troop to the folding tables, piling their plates with food and pouring drinks before settling onto the couch, the bean bags (that Pepper cleverly thought to bring), and the floor. 

It’s no accident that Peter ends up squished between Thor and Steve on the couch (Wanda teases them for shamelessly commandeering the whole thing to themselves) and seems to be absolutely pleased about it. Bucky turns on the TV, choosing the first Harry Potter movie. He says he can’t stand to watch The Christmas Story a second time and only shrugs when Bruce points out that those wizards aren’t in a festive mood at all.

An hour into the movie, it’s safe to say everyone’s drowsy, stuffed full of food, and buzzed from both the regular alcohol for the humans and Asgardian mead for the supers. By now, Steve’s resting his arm along the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing Peter’s left shoulder. He shouldn’t be this obvious, but it’s difficult with Peter listing sideways into him.

“You have picked up a new Avenger,” Thor comments softly, causing Steve to tear his eyes away from sleepy Peter to the god sitting on his other side. There’s a knowing glimmer in Thor’s gaze, and damn it, this secrecy is going down the drain fast. Right now Steve’s just gonna hope Tony continues not to notice this. 

He smiles, ruffling Peter’s hair because—fine—to hell with secrecy. They’ve done nothing inappropriate, they have only trained and grown closer to one another. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.

“Peter managed to talk his way onto the team, as you can tell.” Steve pauses and bites at the inside of his cheek. “And...I’m sorry about what happened. With...your eye and losing your home like that. For you both. Please come to see me or stay over whenever you guys want. I get what it’s like to be alone. To lose so much.” 

Thor reaches out to Steve, grasping his shoulder tightly. For a moment, grief and fright flicker over his face, before those feelings are tucked away behind a gracious expression.

“Thank you.” There’s more that can and should be said, but now is not the time. They can still mourn their losses together, but this present moment is for happiness, friends, and peace of mind. Then they settle into contented silence, Steve resting his hand on the nape of Peter’s neck and Thor’s arm pressed against his on the other side. 

Near the end of the movie, even Steve can’t suppress the need to use the bathroom.

“Be right back,” he mutters to Peter, gently tipping him towards Thor, who smiles, patting his hair when Peter makes a sleepy sound. Bucky gives him a look for missing the end of the movie, but Steve just makes a face at him. Rather than use the general bathroom, Steve heads to his own room. It’s arelief to have a moment to himself. He’s forgotten how much it takes out of him to be social for extended periods of time, in a way different from when he was frail young man. 

When he’s done in the bathroom and has washed his hands, he’s surprised by Peter peeking into his bedroom. A smile pulls at his lips. Somehow he thinks Peter hasn’t come looking for the bathroom.

The question is rhetorical when he asks, “Need something, Peter?” Neither of them can deny the anticipation between them. Heat races over him as Peter steps into the room, closes the door, and walks over to him, eyes steady on his. Steve opens his arms, groaning softly, when Peter steps close, hugging him tightly, pressing against him from chest to hips. How good it feels to really hold onto each other the way they’ve been dancing around for the past month, not admitting nor backing away when their touches linger.

Peter looks up at him through thick lashes, and Steve can’t help glancing at his lips. Not with the way Peter licks his lips before biting his bottom lip in a grin. 

“Even though there’s no mistletoe in your room... since it’s Christmas can I still kiss you?”

Steve caresses Peter’s cheek, loving the way he leans into his touch. 

“I was hoping you were going to ask.”


End file.
